


The Lion Has Awoken

by Autumn_Llleaves



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Hostage Situations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumn_Llleaves/pseuds/Autumn_Llleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unable to repay his debts to the Lions of Casterly Rock, Ser Harys Swyft is forced to give his daughter as a hostage. Dorna readies herself for torture and self-sacrifice, but she's not quite ready for falling in love with Kevan Lannister…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion Has Awoken

Dorna was reading with Septa Jeyne when the message from the Rock arrived. Father threw her room's door open, his face yellowish white like old paper. 

"The lion has awoken," he said hoarsely, avoiding her eyes. "Ser Tywin has finally taken over control at the Rock."

The girl felt cold sweat on her back. She might have been more busy in the septry and the garden than in the study, but she knew well what the news meant. 

For years, Father had been borrowing from Lord Tytos Lannister, taking advantage of the man's soft and trusting nature. When Dorna asked him if this was a wise thing to do, he waved her worries off:

"Don't fret, child. The Laughing Lion may not like laughter so much anymore, but his open-handedness flows in his veins. Casterly Rock will rise in the air before Tytos becomes harsh with any debtor of his."

"But he has several sons growing…"

"My dear, never worry. After all, I need gold for you, my children. Your flowers, your books, everything you have – it's practically all bought for the Lion's money. We'll manage to elude the debt somehow."

But the reckoning time has come. Dorna bitterly thought that she had always known. A Lannister always pays his debts, and woe betide anyone who doesn't. 

"What does Ser Tywin write?" she asked faintly, gripping the table for support. Father's voice was flat, dreadfully flat, and it stung worse than anything else. 

"He orders all debtors to pay or…" he swallowed. "Send hostages. Kevan Lannister will soon march on us to see to it."

Dorna's heart froze in her chest. There was no question as to who would be the hostage. Steffon was the heir, and Shierle but six years of age. 

Septa Jeyne steadied her:

"Poor child, try to be calm," she soothed her and gave Father a reproachful look. "I told you, Ser, borrowing always ends in returning…"

"I-I am sorry, my child," it was hard for Father to enunciate it. "Please… I don't have even a quarter of the gold I've taken… The Lannisters are honorable, they will treat you well…"

Dorna clasped her hands together and looked around, as if searching for a route to escape. The books, bought by Father for the gold. The harp, just the same. Her dearly beloved flowerbeds outside, with even orchids from the Summer Isles adorning them…

It was she who used most of the loans. So she would be answering for it. It was her duty, both as a Swyft and as a debtor who needed redemption.

"Yes, Father," she curtsied. "I understand."

 _Awake! Awake!_ The Swyft motto turned against them now, rousing them from the illusion of absolute freedom and endless wealth.

Kevan Lannister's host arrived in but three days. These days were spent in a flurry, with Dorna packing her things and saying her goodbyes to Steffon and Shierle. She was aware that the length of her hostage time depended entirely on Ser Tywin's goodwill. History books told her of hostages spending their entire lives among enemies.

_It is as it must be done. You'll sacrifice your home, mayhaps, but Father and Steffon and Shierle will be happy._

The final day came. Dorna was wide awake at dawn, walking around the castle, blowing farewell kisses to every window where she liked to sit, every flower she had planted, everything that had a place in her heart. Therefore she was the first one to see Ser Kevan's men approaching.

No greeting had ever been colder on both sides, Dorna mused. There was no pretence as to the Lannisters' goal.

"I am pleased to introduce my eldest daughter, Lady Dorna," Father said, looking like he'd rather be dead. Dorna walked forward and welcomed the visitors, somehow managing a smile.

"Pleased to meet you, my lady," Ser Kevan said. "Will you be accompanying us?"

"Yes," she nodded feebly, daring to look at him. Her first impression was – a usual Lannister, golden-haired, basking in his gold and power. Not as handsome as some of them, though, a chubby, soft-looking youth. But Dorna knew better than to trust appearances: she had heard of Ser Kevan. He wasn't knighted for nothing. She knew much of his fighting skills, but surprisingly little of his nature. People could talk of Ser Tywin for hours and add only a few phrases about his brother.

"When can I expect Lady Dorna b-back?" Father stammered, as if hoping for a direct answer. 

"When Ser Tywin commands," Kevan replied sternly.

Dorna bowed in submission:

"I am his humble servant."

She stole several more looks at Ser Lannister as her bags and trunks were loaded into the waiting carts. She tried to figure out what to expect from him. Softness or cruelty? Understanding or coldness? At least, it was easy to guess he wasn't a weakling like his lord father. The Laughing Lion would have been cheering and feasting right now... no, he wouldn't. He wouldn't have been here at all, for he had paid no attention to longtime debtors. Or any debtors at all for that matter. Ser Kevan's face, though, was dead serious, and it was strange to behold, because he was still so young, barely a year her senior.

"Farewell," Dorna said to her family and Septa Jeyne, swallowing tears.

"May your journey be good," Father whispered. Septa Jeyne wept openly.

"My lady," Kevan urged. "We have little time."

_So be it. So be it._

Inhaling deep, Dorna reluctantly took his hand and left the castle of Cornfield, towards the uncertain future.

***

While on the way to Casterly Rock, Dorna spoke nothing. She tried to distract herself by sewing, but her fingers shook so that soon blood was all over the threads. The girl barely suppressed a sob.

"Here, my lady," Ser Kevan handed her a bundle of ribwort leaves, which she knew to have healing effects. She accepted it gratefully and pressed it to her injured hands.

"My lord," she breathed out and dared to ask:

"Am I to reside at the Rock?"

"Of course, my lady," he nodded. "There's enough space for everyone. It has its own gardens, by the way."

"Gardens?.."

"There's plenty of soil covering the Rock. I alone remember ten gardens or so, not counting the weirwood cave."

Dorna let out the breath she had been holding. Most of all, she had been afraid of losing her favorite company of trees and flowers. She imagined Casterly Rock to be all gloomy and gray and very dark inside, and she had almost felt the stuffy cave air choking the life out of her.

"Thank you," she smiled nervously. "I... I like gardens."

"So I've been told, my lady," Ser Kevan smiled back. His smile was unexpectedly warm, with two dimples appearing on his round cheeks.

"But will... I mean... is it allowed for me to visit them?.."

"I am sure my brother won't mind. He might object against you coming to the stables or the deepest tunnels or the port or somewhere else where you can figure out a way to esc..." Kevan stopped tactfully and corrected himself, "to leave the castle. But how can you leave it from a _garden_? The closest one to the earth is on a balcony about a hundred feet high, and it's mostly covered with a glass dome."

Despite her anxiety and determination not to let her guard down, Dorna couldn't help being curious, especially when it came to gardens:

"Why a glass dome?"

"Well, it's cold up there, isn't it? The glass doesn't get in the sunlight's way but it prevents the warmth from escaping."

She had never heard of the trick before. But then again, she had never seen a garden a hundred feet high.

 _It won't be so terrible,_ she told herself, half-closing her eyes. _Ser Tywin may be harsh, but he's honorable, everyone says it. And Ser Kevan appears to be nice. I'll manage it._


End file.
